Miles: 258.0 | Leaving the Smokies doesn’t magically fix what you carried out of them. A heavy mood, sore joints, and a tense morning push me into some long-overdue self-reflection — and a brutally honest list of things I want to change. Dehydration turns into desperation, until one cold stream restores both my body and my perspective. Max Patch delivers sun, wind, calories, and awe — but the day still ends with pain, rain clouds, and a reminder that growth on trail isn’t always pretty.
I took my time getting up on this morning. I could hear the folks around me stirring at 7am before the sun had even risen. I was feeling a bit down this day, not sure why. Perhaps too much in introspection.
Josh and I walked together for a bit in the morning but quickly realized we both needed to hike alone for a bit. Frustrated with myself, I put on a podcast.
I felt like for the past two days I should have been happier, but I wasn't. Maybe it was my depression? I should have felt relief and joy at finally leaving the difficult Smokies. That I had accomplished something and I couldn't even bask in my achievement.
I felt like I should've suddenly been happy now that I wasn't hiking in snow or rain, for once. But I wasn't. I felt like every person around me was annoying me, even though they just wanted to be my friend and support me.
I decided to make a list of the things about myself and my attitude that I wanted to work on on the trail. I stopped and wrote them in my journal. I decided I wanted to be less negative, I would force myself to see the good and change my mental patterns if it was the only thing I accomplished this trip. I wanted to be less selfish, I wanted to recognize the good in people and the way that they care about me because sometimes I feel like people don't like me even when they do, I wanted to accept the love and care I deserved from other people instead of putting myself down all the time.
The little tiff Josh and I had that morning had opened my eyes. This whole time I had been walking with other people nearly every moment of every day: to avoid being alone. I didn't want to face myself, my mental illness, or any of the things I came out here to work through. I was afraid and stubborn as hell. Looking back on this day I am so thankful to have a friend that was straight forward and honest with me, even though it hurt.
I passed a few people on a smaller bald:
I kept walking by myself, a ways behind Josh and Tang. My stubborn anger fueled my walk. Eventually, after making my list, I calmed down a bit. My knee was so sore this day and bending my right leg became a chore. But I kept walking. My hip belt on my pack began slipping and I couldn't get it to stay in place on my waist properly, even when it was all the way tight.
It was a hot day and I was hiking in pants. I passed a shelter where there was water and, thinking I had more than I did and there would be more water later, I passed it. Up the next couple of hills I downed the last of my water. No biggie, I thought, there's more up ahead. I crested the next hill and came upon Josh and Tang having a snack break. They had almost no water, too. I was definitely dehydrated.
We looked at the guide, next water was in 2 miles up over Max Patch, according to Guthook. But, I saw a small blue line about 1.5 miles ahead that looked like it might be a viable source, despite it being left off the waypoints list. I chewed a Salt Stick tab (bleck!) and moved on, leaving Josh and Tang behind. A mile later I ran into an older fellow who was also they-hiking. He didn't tell me his name but he saw desperation on my face.
"You looking for water?" He asked.
"Yeah," I replied. "I should've stopped at that shelter when I had the chance. By the time I found out I didn't want to turn around for it."
"Me too," he said. "There's water about a mile ahead though, I think. According to AWOL, anyway."
I thanked him profusely for the tip, assuming he was referring to that stream I saw on the map, and kept walking. He told me to have a blessed day and I passed him. I had a new skip in my step, knowing I'd find water soon! When I finally made it to the stream I was the happiest I had been in days. The water tasted SO GOOD, so cold. I filled a liter and drank it quickly. I filled both my bottles, careful now so I wouldn't run out. It amazed me how much happiness one little stream could bring. How a simple thing like water could get so overlooked in daily life.
I made it up to Max (Mack's) Patch around early afternoon. It was an amazing site. I laid in the sun with both my jackets on, the wind was whipping up there! I sat there for half an hour and ate thousands of calories worth of food. I felt good. Finally hydrated and hungry. The sun felt so nice and the views were incredible. Eventually, Josh and Tang caught up to me and I sat with them while they made their lunch and I ate some more, too.
Apparently I had sat still for too long, though. My legs got stiff and my knee hurt like hell. I couldn't get it to stretch out. I couldn't bend my right leg hardly at all. We walked as fast as we could off the bald and down toward camp. My pain shot from my knee all the way up to my hip.
My pack was hurting me, too. Clouds rolled in while we were looking for a place to camp. We finally found some flat sites, after passing a hammocker who took up 3 (YES 3!!) flat tent sites that were closer (seriously, friends, can we please practice proper trail etiquette?!). We set up our tents and looked at the ominous sky, sure it was about to rain any minute.
I got out my food kit and we all ate dinner together. I was tired and in pain and I was having a hard time staying positive. The rain clouds moved in and it started to sprinkle. We packed up our dinner stuff and quickly went to Tang's tent to hang out. We rolled out our legs and backs and relaxed while the rain poured down. It had been a long day but we were close to Hot Springs.